Five Years Difference
by Remus Loves Tonks
Summary: She was the bright, bubbly one; he was the one that watched out for her. That was how it was and always would be. A series of one-shots revolving around Peter and Lucy and their relationship.
1. What Ifs

**Peter and Lucy have always seemed to have an adorable relationship, and I wanted to write some things that demonstrated that. I placed him at around sixteen and her at eight, so that's where the title comes from.**

***Updated* A lovely person pointed out to me that C.S. Lewis placed them at 8 and 13 so I decided to change it. It's different now. Thanks!**

* * *

_What Ifs_

Peter sighed. Three months ago, everything had been perfect; they'd been a close, loving family without a care in the world more trivial than final exams and what to have for lunch. And now…now he and his siblings were on a train, speeding far away from the only home they'd ever know. If they were lucky, it would still be standing when they returned to it.

He surveyed their train compartment. Susan and Edmund had both lapsed into sleep, perhaps out of lack of anything better to do. Peter assumed that Lucy had also, as she was leaning against the window and hadn't made a sound for quite some time. But as he watched her, he realized that her shoulders were shaking ever so slightly, and she was sniffling quietly to herself.

"Lucy…" he whispered quietly, gently placing his hand on her shoulder. She turned to him, a pitiful expression mingling with the tears on her face. "What's wrong?" he asked, though he already knew.

In answer, his youngest sister flung herself on him and sobbed into his chest. He stroked her hair, a little taken aback by the vehemence of her emotions.

"What are you thinking about, Lu?" he asked quietly when her snobs had turned to sniffles.

"I miss mummy," she said after a minute, rubbing her eyes. Peter nodded supportively.

"What if the Professor's mean?" she asked a few moments later, turning to look at Peter worriedly.

"He won't be."

"Yeah, but what if he is?"

"Lucy, I promise, I'll keep you away from him. But he won't be mean," said Peter, resisting the urge to smile. Lucy nodded, but she still had the little crinkle in her forehead that she got when she was worrying about something.

"Let's do something to take your mind off it, hm?" said Peter.

"Like what?" asked Lucy, sitting up. Peter glanced around, searching for something to distract his sister. He hadn't really thought his plan out all the way when he'd offered it to her. After a second, Peter's hand brushed against the book he'd been reading. Though it might have been a bit advanced for her, Peter figured she'd enjoy it enough.

"Here, I'll read to you, alright?" he said. She nodded excitedly, and crawled all the way into his lap, snuggling into the crook of his arm as Peter cleared his throat and began to read aloud. Lucy had always sworn, since she was a tiny girl, that Peter read stories the best of anyone. Edmund simply refused, of course, and Susan was too prim and proper to do the funny voices and act out Lucy's favorite bits; but Peter always had, and Lucy loved it.

Peter glanced over at his baby sister some time later to discover that she'd peacefully dozed off with her head on his shoulder. He smiled to himself, and kissed her forehead, before going back to reading to himself.


	2. Of Accusations and Apologies

_Of Accusations and Apologies_

Lucy stood in front of her siblings in the dark, empty room, feeling humiliated and defeated as Edmund made another of his cruel jokes.

"I wouldn't lie about this!" she exclaimed after Susan had run off after Ed. Her oldest brother pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed impatiently before turning to face her.

"Susan's right, Lucy. That's enough." Peter was in no mood for this tonight. He turned away from her again, and made to exit the room.

"Why don't you believe me?" shouted Lucy, her voice pitching up from tears and distress.

"Because it is impossible!" said Peter with exasperation, not looking at his sister.

"But…but…" protested Lucy, her chin trembling with the effort of not bursting into sobs.

"That's it, Lucy. Enough. Go to bed."

"I hate you, Peter!" she wailed, tears streaming down her face as she pushed past her brother and ran off down the hallway.

"Lucy Jane Pevensie!" he shouted after her, but it made no difference. The damage had already been done. Peter slumped against the door frame and slid to the floor, massaging his aching temples. Between traveling and Edmund, he'd had a rough couple of days. And now this with Lucy… he couldn't understand it. She'd never caused much trouble, as sweet and unassuming as she was.

On a whim, he crossed to the old wardrobe and opened the door. It was filled with fur coats and smelled of moth balls and, faintly, of cedar and pine trees. He stepped up into it, feeling incredibly silly, and reached out his hand as far as he could. With a jolt, his fingers connected with the back panel of the wardrobe.

Peter sighed, feeling a faint bit of disappointment. He'd almost wanted to believe Lucy, if only for the fact that she was so innocent and believable. It wasn't truly that he thought she was lying; that wasn't Lucy at all. He just figured that with all the upheaval in her young life thus far, especially in the last few months, it wouldn't be difficult for her overactive imagination to conjure up a fantasy world into which she could escape the real one.

Still, he thought, he'd need to make it up to his little sister. He made his way down to the kitchen and, after a bit of trial and error, found all the proper fixings for a cup of hot cocoa. He slowly climbed the stairs, careful not to spill a drop, lest he incur the wrath of the Macready.

He was relieved, upon passing the study, to find Susan still reading on the loveseat. That meant that she wasn't in her and Lucy's room to interfere.

When Peter reached the girls' room, he stopped, peering through the crack in the slightly open door. Lucy was sitting in bed, staring out the window. Her fingers were intertwining and relaxing methodically in what Peter knew to be agitation. A discarded storybook lay face down near his sister's feet, and he could see that her face was still red and streaked with tears.

Swallowing his pride, he knocked quietly on the door frame. Lucy's head whipped around hopefully, then settled into a nearly convincing mask of indifference.

"Oh, it's you."

"I came to apologize, Lu," said Peter tentatively.

"For what, yelling at me, or not believing me?" she asked sniffily. Peter's jaw clenched; he was thinking all the while that she'd been spending too much time around Susan.

"For yelling at you…"

Lucy's face fell. "So you still don't believe me?" she asked tearfully.

"I want to, Lucy, but I have to see it first," he admitted. She nodded, seemingly placated for the moment. "I brought you some cocoa."

Lucy smiled slightly. "Thanks, Peter." She reached out for the cup, and took a sip. Her eyes fluttered sleepily as she drained the beverage in a couple gulps.

"Time for bed, Lucy," said Peter, taking the cup from her and placing her book on the bedside table.

"Goodnight, Peter," she said softly.

"Goodnight, Lulu."

"We can look for Narnia tomorrow, mkay?" she mumbled, her eyes shut now.

"Mkay," he agreed quietly, smiling to himself as he turned off the light.


	3. Piggyback

_Piggyback_

Peter, Susan, and Lucy were trudging along behind the Beavers through the slushy, melting snow. Susan was still trying to figure out how all this had happened to her since breakfast; Peter was cursing the frozen ball of slush that had somehow gotten trapped in his shoe; and Lucy was still, for the most part, marveling about finding an entirely new world inside of a wardrobe. After all, it wasn't exactly something that happened to little girls every day.

Peter glanced back every now and then to check on Lucy. Most of the time, she was staring off into space with a look of deep wonderment on her face. But when he checked again, he noticed she was starting to lag behind. She was kicking petulantly at the snow on the ground, and fidgeting around with her oversized fur coat. Peter recognized the classic signs that his youngest sister was getting very tired and very anxious to be done with their journey. Even Lucy, who was better than most children her age after all, had a limit to her patience and attention span.

Smiling to himself, Peter turned around and stopped in front of Lucy. She was so preoccupied with something in her sleeve that she very nearly ran into him.

Peering up at him with bleary eyes, she made a face and said, "I'm tired, Peter."

"I can tell, Lucy," he replied with a small chuckle.

"Are we there yet?" she whined.

Peter glanced pointedly around the completely empty frozen wasteland they were surrounded by. "I don't think so, Lu." This was followed by a deep sigh from Lucy.

Peter turned around and crouched down close to the ground. "Hop on."

Lucy grinned, knowing what he meant. By this time, the others had noticed their absence, and were a few yards ahead of them. Susan was waiting with a impatiently stern expression on her face, and Mr. Beaver was imploring them to keep moving.

"If he tells me to hurry up one more time, I swear I'll turn him into a great big fluffy hat!" exclaimed Peter, mostly for Lucy's benefit as he hoisted her up onto his back and began to walk towards the others.

Lucy laughed, as he'd expected, and began to play with the fur on Peter's coat. He rolled his eyes bemusedly, and kept trudging on, feeling at peace for the moment.

* * *

**So… A lovely reviewer has pointed out to me that, had I cared to do any actual research, I would have found that C.S. Lewis placed Peter at thirteen and Lucy at eight, making them five years apart. **

**I thought about it for a bit, and decided to change it to fit. Hey, I made a rhyme, how about that. Anyways, so, I'll change the title of the story and continue on in this manner. **

**Thanks a ton to OldFashionedGirl95 for pointing this out to me! You rock.**

**And thanks a ton to everyone who gave my little story some loving. It was unexpected, and it made me extremely happy and grateful.**


	4. Contradictions

_Contradictions_

Peter smiled as he watched his youngest sister bouncing around with glee upon discovering the Father Christmas was, in fact, real. She was staring in wide-eyed fascination, and was nearly overcome with excitement when he called her forward to receive her presents.

First, he handed her a vial filled with cordial to cure any injury. That was just like Lucy, the always caring, compassionate one, to get a vial of something with which she could help people.

What he handed her next, however, evoked an entirely different response. Peter's heart leapt and his hands clenched involuntarily as he watched Father Christmas hand his darling little eight year old sister a sharp, steel dagger designed to wound and kill. He couldn't imagine anything more unsuited for her personality, and while he recognized that she may need it to defend herself, perhaps someday soon, he didn't like the way the hilt curved, ungiving, around her warm, fleshy hand, or the way it gleamed sinisterly where it lay against her hip, like a cobra, poised and ready to strike.

She was fascinated with it, and he could see in the way that she walked as uprightly as she could manage that she felt older and more privileged with it hanging from her belt, but he didn't like it one bit.

Steel was cold and calculating; bloodthirsty and vicious. Lucy was everything that it was not. Father Christmas was right, battles were ugly affairs. And they were simply no place for innocent eight year old girls.

* * *

Lucy stepped back to join Susan, one finger still caressing the hilt of her new prize. Though she was slightly afraid of it – a feeling that wouldn't go away until she became familiar with the way it moved in battle – she was still very proud of it, and couldn't wait to show it off.

She watched quietly as Peter stepped forth to claim his gifts from Father Christmas. She was shocked and awed to see the wizened old man hand her brother a gleaming sword and shield. She couldn't ever imagine Peter using it in a malevolent way; he was simply so kind and caring, especially towards her.

She knew that he would only ever use it for good, but it gave her a funny feeling that she couldn't quite place to see it in his hands. Something close to fear, but more resigned. It was making her feel sad in a way, and she no longer wished to think of it. Instead, she smiled, and focused her thoughts on how noble her and her siblings looked, and how wonderful it would be to live in a castle and be the queen of a whole country.

She gave Peter a wide grin and skipped away after the Beavers once Father Christmas had taken his leave. Peter smiled after her, chuckling to himself as she contradicted everything he'd thought about the dagger simply in her manner of walking and talking.

* * *

**A/N: I don't know. I'm tired.**

**Another reviewer pointed out to me that I should go change the note in the first chapter for the benefit of people first reading the story. That's a swell idea, thanks for that, WillowDryad. **

**I'm really out of it, and super sleep deprived, so I'm a bit off my game. But you guys have been wonderful, and I hope you're enjoying this. **


	5. Protection

_Protection_

Peter could think of little else once he heard Susan's horn, followed by the screams of his sisters. He, along with the lion and several army members rushed down to the river where they had been sunbathing.

The girls were up in a tree, Susan still scrambling for cover after having made sure Lucy got to safety first. They were both screaming their heads off, though. Peter began to see red as the wolves lunged for his sister's unprotected legs, dangling from the tree like a piñata.

Without even thinking about what he was doing – his sisters were in trouble, what on earth was there to think about? – he whipped out his newly acquired sword and shield and advanced towards the wolf.

The _talking_ wolf, as it so happened to be, taunted him before viciously lunging towards him. Somewhere, off in another universe entirely, Peter heard his sisters screaming. He heard Aslan holding back his followers. He heard the wolf's snarls, until, suddenly, he didn't anymore. For a short while, Peter could no longer tell which was up and which was down. His world was reduced to the sinewy pile of fur on top of him. He did not know if he were dead, or the wolf, or perhaps both.

Then, either a moment or a millennium later, the pressure on his chest released. He could see the world again, minutely, before he was engulfed in the embraces of his two sisters, who were crying, and screaming, and cheering all at once. Lucy, it seemed, did not know what to do with herself. She flung her entire weight at Peter, though it was not much, and began sobbing into his shoulder.

After a while, Aslan broke up the small reunion by pointing out that Peter had not yet cleaned his sword off. He made Peter a knight of Narnia, right there on the spot. His sisters beamed proudly at him, and Lucy jumped up and down, scarcely able to control her delight.

Peter knew she would sleep well tonight, as would they all, for the exhaustingly exciting day they'd had. He ruffled Lucy's hair and she crinkled her nose at him endearingly as they marched off back towards Aslan's camp to await the arrival of the other Pevensie brother.

**A/N: There's that. Kinda short. I'm way too tired.**


	6. Goodbyes

_Goodbyes_

"Peter, why do we have to leave?" Lucy was tugging on his shirtsleeve, her big brown eyes pleading with him. They'd been watching anxiously as Aslan and the Witch conversed, and were now dismayed to hear they had to leave for the fields of Beruna. As always, Lucy assumed that Peter had the answers she was searching for.

He looked down at her pitiful expression, and was forcibly reminded of a time not long before – though it seemed like decades – when she'd said the same thing.

_"But why do we have to leave? I don't want to go! I want Daddy to come home, and I want everything to go back to normal again."_

_ "Well, we can't always get our way, now can we? The world doesn't revolve around you!" snapped Edmund._

_ "Ed!" Peter hissed as Lucy's face crumpled and she began to sob. "Come here, Lu," said Peter gently, holding out his arms. His youngest sister shuffled over to him and cried bitterly into his shoulder. Peter threw dirty looks at Edmund the entire time, though they all knew that Lucy's reaction wasn't based solely on her brother's spiteful words._

_ "Now," said Peter once Lucy's whimpers had reduced to sniffles, and he held her on his lap, "what I'm sure Edmund meant to say was, sometimes in life, we have to do things that we don't necessarily want to do, for our safety, or for the safety and wellbeing of others." _

_ Lucy nodded, her eyes shining and her brow furrowed in the effort of understanding things that were much larger than herself._

_ "But everything's going to be alright, no matter what happens. Because we have each other, right? We'll all be together, so nothing too terrible can happen," he added, hoping that his little white lie would be enough to soothe her troubled mind. _

_Grappling with the concept, she nodded once, still sniffling. This wasn't the first conversation like this they'd had, and Peter knew it probably wouldn't be the last. But he smiled as he watched her return to her game of checkers with Susan, knowing that his own advice rang true – as long as the siblings were together, everything would be alright._

Peter squinted into the dying sunlight and sighed before returning his gaze to his sister's anxious face.

"I'm sure Aslan has a plan, Lu. Whatever happens, we'll be together, you know that," he said, kissing her on the nose before standing and taking her hand, once again leading her into the unknown.

**A/N: hey it's been a while. Cool beans. Anyways, I updated this. I quite like this little tidbit. Though it is quite little, and I apologize. It's been a long day.**

**Oh, P.S. It's been a few weeks since I read the book and I'm already fuzzy on the details again, but in the play version I was in of this story, everyone was gathered at the stone table when the White Witch came to speak with Aslan and so he told everyone to go to the fields of Beruna, where the battle ended up being. Seeing as how I don't quite remember this happening in the movie, it probably wasn't in the book, though I don't know where the stage version came up with it. But that's what I'm going from, I guess, because after hearing the lines said 734 times, it stuck in my head.**

**Yes, if you were wondering, I was Lucy (you probably weren't).**


	7. Bittersweet

_Bittersweet_

After the battle was finished, after the White Witch had been slain, and harmony had been restored to Narnia, after Lucy had cured the wounded soldiers with her cordial and Edmund had been knighted, after all of that, the Pevensies finally had a moment of peace.

Peter found his youngest sister sitting at the edge of an embankment, staring down at the now empty battlefield. Her eyes were blank, like someone who had seen a great deal of horror and was unsure of how to process it.

"What are you thinking about, Lu?" he asked, sitting down beside her. She didn't answer for a long moment, but simply stared up at the sky, her eyes glassy. Finally, she met his gaze.

"I feel so much older, Peter. I don't feel quite as much like a little girl as I did yesterday." Her voice was small and hollow, and Peter's heart broke just listening to her. He felt as if he had failed her, as if he had let her down in some way.

"You've seen a lot of things you shouldn't have in the past few days. And I'm so sorry for that, I—," began Peter, but Lucy cut him off.

"I know what you're going to say. You feel like you've failed to protect me like a big brother should have. You think it's all your fault. But it's not, Peter. Really. I don't know whose fault it is, but you've done nothing wrong. You're the best big brother anyone could hope for," she said softly, placing her small, cold hand into his much larger one.

Peter looked at his sister long and hard, not saying anything for quite some time. It was true, she had changed. It was nearly imperceptible, except to the keen eye of someone who knew and loved her very much. She was much the same as she had been before, her brown hair falling in ringlets, her long lashes framing her eyes. But there was something in the way she carried herself, something new in the way she spoke that gave Peter the feeling that he was catching glimpses of the woman she would become.

He gazed off over the tree tops and mountains to the castle they would soon call home. He felt as though Lucy had grown up all at once today, and it was an incredibly sad and poignant thought. He let it hang there in the delicate balance of his consciousness as he surveyed his newly won kingdom.

As if she were following his thoughts, Lucy said, "Tomorrow we shall all be kings and queens. Can you imagine that?" She offered him a small smile, then tried to suppress a shiver.

Peter stood, then, and offered Lucy his hand. "Come along. It's getting cold, and the others will be wondering where we are. Besides, I don't think you've eaten much today, have you?"

"I'm not hungry, Peter," she said, wrinkling her nose as she stood. She always had been a finicky eater.

"I'm sure we can find you something you'd like to have," he said, smiling to himself as she swung her arm back in forth with his. Some things would never change, he knew that. She would always be his little Lucy. And he would always be there to protect her.

**A/N: I've been thinking about how this whole experience would have impacted Lucy. I imagine she would be horrified and scared, but she would be brave enough to know not to run and hide. Never run when you're scared (Doctor Who, anyone?). But all the same, I can't even imagine seeing these kinds of things now, and I'm a whole ten years older than Lucy. It would definitely change a person, and I feel like she would have felt older and more mature than before. Whether or not it's a good thing or a bad thing, I suppose I don't really know. It's sort of a loss of innocence in a way, but Lucy's so sweet and inherently innocent that I don't think it would completely go away. But I think she'd be more aware of things and have thoughts that maybe she wouldn't have before.**

**End of rant. Please review. Thank you heaps!**


	8. Coronation

_Coronation_

The very next day, the group made the arduous journey to the magnificent seaside castle Cair Paravel. The four Pevensie children were crowned the new rulers of Narnia, and a massive party was thrown in their honor.

Peter had danced with his siblings, plus what seemed like half the kingdom. It was nearing midnight now, and his feet were throbbing. Last he had seen, Edmund was gorging himself at the food tables again, Susan had been dancing with an overzealous dryad, and Lucy had been talking to Mr. Tumnus.

Though, as his gaze swept the hall once more, he couldn't seem to find his youngest sibling anywhere. He began to get a bit worried as he wandered around, stopping every so often to ask his new subjects casually if they'd seen her. Finally, a gruff looking centaur grunted and pointed towards the front of the room.

Finally, he saw now that Lucy was sitting on her throne, obviously worn out by the day's – and subsequently, the night's – events. Her head was propped up on her hand, which was resting on the arm of her ornately carved throne. She looked even tinier than usual in the thing, as it was obviously not created with an eight year old little girl in mind.

Peter grinned as her head nodded off to one side; it was obvious that she was fighting a losing battle to stay awake.

He swept over to stand in front of her throne, gently calling her name. She bolted upright and mumbled something unintelligible, shaking her head.

"I think it's bedtime, don't you?" he asked her, holding out his hand. She feebly protested, but all the same, she allowed herself to be hauled to her feet. They had only made it a few steps, Peter half supporting, half carrying Lucy, when one of the attendants, a young faun, rushed over to them.

"Your majesty, allow me to escort Her Royal Highness to her bedchambers, you shouldn't have to do that!" squeaked the faun.

"That's really alright, I've got her well taken care of, thanks," said Peter jovially, smiling at the attendant bemused and concerned look and continuing on his way.

Once the doors to the dance hall had slammed shut behind them, and the cacophony of the party dulled to a low drone, Peter scooped Lucy up into his arms and carried her the rest of the way through the quite made it quickly to one of the temporary sleeping areas on the second floor, as their royal chambers weren't quite ready to move into yet.

Settling his sister into the magnificent four poster bed, he kissed her on the forehead and tucked the covers up around her, just like he always had.

"Are you sure you'll be okay in here by yourself?" he asked her worriedly. She giggled once and nodded.

"Yes, Peter! Now go back, you're missing the party," she admonished him playfully. He ruffled her hair and planted a kiss on her forehead.

"Goodnight, Lucy, dear," he said, "if you need anything, you know where to find me, okay?" She nodded once, already slipping under into sleep.

"Goodnight, High King Peter," she said softly, a small trace of teasing still left in her voice.

"Goodnight, _Your Majesty_." He slowly closed the door behind him and made his way back to the coronation celebration, marveling at how much had changed in such a short time.

**A/N: What's this? Two updates in one night? Must be deep magic. Or just deep boredom, as I can't seem to think of anything else to do. Greeeeeat. This one's cute and fluffy, but I still like the other one better. Let me know what you think! And also if anyone has any ideas for upcoming ones, that'd be great too!**


	9. Thunder

_Thunder_

Approximately a fortnight into his reign as High King, Peter awoke in the wee hours of the morning to one of Narnia's infamous summer thunderstorms. Out his window, he groggily watched as lighting split the sky in a magnificent display, accompanied by the timpani sounds of thunder that shook the castle down to its very foundation.

After a moment, as the haze of sleep wore off and conscious thinking returned to him, he thought of Lucy, all alone in the cavernous room at the top of the tallest tower in the castle. She slept in the room that had been meant for him; upon seeing her reaction to the space, he had graciously allowed her to take his room, opting for the slightly smaller but just as grand space two floors below.

But he figured his sister was regretting her decision at the present moment; she'd always been terrified of thunder, and indeed of loud things in general. He figured it made sense, her being such a meek and mild mannered child.

Sighing, he knew what he ought to do. Silently, he slipped out of bed and into his dressing gown. The castle was sometimes very drafty, and the fire had completely died down. He grabbed a candle from his bedside table, and made his way up the two flights of stairs to his youngest sister's bedchamber.

He slowly pushed the ornately carved door open, and wandered into the room. Sure enough, Lucy was huddled in the center of her round bed, a tiny mass in a sea of red and gold tapestry, hugging her newly found teddy bear to her chest. Her eyes darted about in panic, before coming to rest on the figure of her eldest brother.

"Peter!" she breathed, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

"Oh, Lulu, come here," he said gently, holding out his arms. She scrambled over the side of the massive bed and into his arms. He hugged her to him, picking her up and rocking slightly back and forth. Over her shoulder, he saw lightning light up the glass panes in front of her window seat, and was struck with an idea.

Slowly, cautiously, so as not to alarm his little sister, he made his way over towards the window. After a moment, however, she realized where he was moving to, and struggled to be free from his grasp. It was to no avail, however, as his arms were much stronger than hers.

"No, Peter, what are you doing?" she wailed now, giving up on the physical assault and going for the verbal one.

"Lucy, trust me," he said, sitting down on the silken cushion of the window seat and placing her on his lap. "Would I let anything hurt you?" he asked. Slowly, begrudgingly, she shook her head.

She rested her head on his shoulder then, and watched out the window, taking his lead. She visibly winced each time thunder rattled the windowpanes, but her reaction lessened over time.

"See, Lu, thunder isn't anything to be scared of. It's just a lot of noise, like the sky's way of celebrating something," said Peter, citing what his mother had told him when he was near Lucy's age himself.

After a moment, she nodded slowly, a small smile upon her face. "I guess it's not so bad," she acquiesced.

"It's really not," said Peter, laughing slightly. "In fact, someday you'll probably enjoy thunderstorms, like I do."

"Yeah, but you're not afraid of anything," Lucy stated matter-of-factly. It caught Peter off guard, for some reason.

"I'm afraid of some things," he mumbled, mostly to himself. Lucy said no more on the subject, simply staring out the window in a kind of glazed over calm. He was sure she was tired by now, but he was glad to have made some sort of progress with her fears.

He stood then, and carried her over to her bed, tucking her in for the second time that night. She looked mostly asleep, and he turned to leave, but a small hand was tugging on his shirtsleeve, anchoring him to the spot.

"Peter, will you stay here? Just until the storm's over…" she said, her voice tremulous. He knew he would never be able to say no to her pleading eyes. Resigned, he crawled onto the bed and laid beside her, listening to her tell him all about her day, until she was quiet, having literally talked herself to sleep.

**A/N: Yep. So, when I was in fifth grade, I found an article about Colleen Moore's Fairy Castle in the Museum of Science and Industry in Chicago in an old copy of an American Girl magazine, and I was simply obsessed with it. I read and re-read that article over and over again the entire year.**

**Then, in seventh grade, I actually got to go see it and I was overjoyed. Anyways, if you're wondering what I'm babbling about, as am I, my point is, the princess's bedroom has a round bed, and it was the first I'd ever heard of such a thing. I was entranced, and I wanted one desperately. I never got one, of course, but when I started brainstorming for this, that was one of the first things that I thought of: that Lucy should have a round bed like that.**

**And indeed, much of my mental images of Cair Paravel look a lot like the Fairy Castle.**

**If you're interested, here's a link to the room I was talking about, as well as the rest of it: whats-here/exhibits/fairycastle/the-exhibit/princess-bedroom/**

**Also, to the anon reviewer a couple of days ago, a chapter where Lucy looks after Peter for a change is in the works, don't you worry. Great idea! **


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